Understanding
by geekdad
Summary: In an Irish bar in Boston over brews and football, Kid Flash and Sportsmaster come to an understanding about a certain blonde archer. One shot.


Author's Note. Ok This is just a quick story one shot. I swear this is it till 2013, unless of course those damn Mayan know the calendar. Thanks for reading. R & R if you like, and let's hope YJ delivers in the New Year…if Cartoon Network will let them. Enjoy.

Understanding

Lawrence Crock had just about disabled the main alarm system. Following the intricate step by step instructions provided to him, all he had left was just to bypass the cellular feed and a backup energy conduit and he was in. Once inside if he did accidently trigger an unseen sensor, the subroutine he had entered into the terminal would shut off all klaxons and dial out to a dummy number that would send it to a redundant server and ignore it. It wasn't mercenary work, but it did pay the bills.

The designers of the systems probably never expected someone would think to look for the mainframe on the roof, camouflaged as part of the heating and air system, but they also had never dealt with a Shadow agent before. A major brokerage firm like the one he was breaking into, would prefer to keep its employees in the dark to discourage any fraud or insider training. Only a handful would know where the main access and juncture ports would be, like the Vice President in charge of Security for the firm, currently unconscious and tied up back in his million dollar home in the upstate area of Boston. The VP should have been killed to tie up any loose ends, but unless you were getting paid for it, killing was a waste of resources unless you enjoyed it. The jury was still out for Sportmaster, and if the codes he beat out of the man didn't work, he might go back and finish his job on the manager for free.

The alarm was disabled as Crock broke out his pick set and began working on the access door that would lead down into the building. This particular lock had more than your average amount of tumblers and this was going to take time, luckily it was a Sunday, the weather was bad and no one would be in the building till Tuesday due to the Labor Day holiday.

He was having trouble with the third tumbler when a voice behind him finally spoke.

"The slim line set would probably be your best bet, the locks you're working on are imported from Switzerland, and they really-really like their security there, or so I hear."

With blinding speed for a non-Meta, Crock spun around crossbow at the ready as the figure in yellow sat a few yards across from him on the air vent.

"Should have thought this through a little better kid. I've been working on this particular score for a few weeks, and I'm not going to let some Flashy princess screw up my day, got big plans for later."

"Me to," Wally smiled beneath the cowl, "But if I hit the main junction box for the entire building, the system issues a whole different protocol to alert the security company. You know those boys over at Wayne Tech, they think of everything."

"What makes you think you can reach it before this arrow goes through you heart."

"Oh I've gotten pretty good at dodging arrows Crock."

"I bet you have," he sneered. "My daughter has some pretty shitty tastes in boyfriends, Always has. I hope you won't be offended if I thin the heard a bit."

The wind picked up and blew small debris atop the roof. He blinked for all of a millisecond, but when his eyes opened Wally was already at the main junction box.

"I think it's the red lead, but I'm pretty sure any of the main three will have the desired effect."

Sportsmaster was a professional. He didn't get mad. He was calculated and cunning and if a mission wasn't going to his liking, better to live and fight another day, than do another stretch in Belle Reve.

"So what's your next move Kid'?

"Well I'm glad you asked. Just between us, the guys in this firm are crooks. A birdie told me there are several SEC violations pending, for ripping off grandmas and building golden parachutes for themselves, so I'm tempted to let you go through with it, thinning the herd and such."

Lawrence chuckled at the remark. The kid was a smartass and he kind of appreciated that. He'd be dead soon enough, but it didn't mean they couldn't share a laugh.

"But," Wally continued. "I did go to the trouble of putting on the lightning bolt, so I better still play the hero game."

"Blah Blah Blah," Crock grumbled. "Let's get this over with."

Sportsmaster's muscles tensed waiting for the attack when Wally surprised the mercenary and sat down again.

"Well I have a proposition for you. Hear me out before you choose. I guess with a name like Sportmaster you have to follow the NFL fairly well, if not it's just a stupid code name."

"Pure genius kid."

"I know, it's a gift. Anywhooo… Artemis told me you were a Steelers fan. Funny so am I. Four blocks over from here is McGreevey's Pub and since the Pats are on a bye this week, they are showing the Steelers-Ravens game. I wanted to see if you wanted to catch the game and have a few beers."

Playing at the level Sportsmaster did, Lawrence Crock thought he was prepared for every contingency, able to defend any and every attack, but rarely had he been as stumped as he was at the moment.

"Kid did you run into a wall or something on the way over here. That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say and trust me you talk a whole hell of a lot."

"No I'm good, thanks for asking though…so about that game…"

"What in the fuck is wrong with you? Do I look stupid? Just walk run into a trap with your little Girl Scout troop waiting. No thanks."

Wally was about to answer the _stupid_ portion of the question when he thought better of it.

"Listen Larry. If we were setting a trap for you, I'm pretty sure a rooftop on a 10 story building would have been the prime place. Considering you spent 20 minutes scaling the building, and I cut all your repelling lines you had for your emergency routes, I'd say you'd be pretty screwed now. I did leave you the parachute, so you're kind of out of excuses."

"That's it. Let's rumble kid. The first thing I'm going to break is your jaw so you will shut the hell up."

Wally raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Whoa whoa there Larry. I really am not going to fight you. I've got a game to watch. I'm heading over to the pub, ordering some food and brew and getting cozy with one of their 72 inch screens. Yeah I checked it out first, HD and everything. You're welcome to join if you like."

"Kid you are the weirdest motherfucker I have ever met, makes sense my daughter likes you, you've got balls I'll give you that, but I think I'll pass."

"All right. First round was on me, but if you're not interested no big. I will probably drop a quick anonymous call to the Boston PD, but I'll give you time to clear out. Even though you have the chute, I pretty sure you have some extra repelling gear stashed away somewhere."

Sportsmaster stood speechless as Kid Flash rose and made his way over to the side of the building. "Listen I'll be over there if you change your mind. Kickoff is still and hour and a half away. I hear they have great appetizers."

"Knock yourself out kid, I mean that literally."

"Good one. I see where Artemis gets here stellar sense of humor. Oh and speaking of which, I'm marrying your daughter about a month from now. I know I don't really don't need your blessing, seeing that you kind of a scum bag and all. Not sure if you are still on Interpol's top 10 anymore, but I thought I'd at least tell you. I'm kind of old fashioned that way."

Wally stood at the edge and was about to begin his run down when he looked back.

"Rothesburger and Polamalu are probable, so it's going to be a lot closer than everyone thinks. Terrible Towel is in my pocket, go Steelers. See ya round Larry."

Kid Flash jumped off the building and within seconds was streaking down the side of it when he altered his momentum and his feet barely touched the surface of the street and shifted forward.

When Sportsmaster peered over the building all he saw was the yellow and crimson lighting trail heading uptown.

"What a weird fucking kid."

The sports bar was massive, but with the Pats off, Boston's fans were not out in groves as normal, but still enough die hard NFL fans that filled just about every seat in the place. When Crock entered the door he had his two semi-automatics tucked in his jacket ready to fire. He eyed the patrons swiftly; looking for recognizable faces, but at first glance didn't see any. He kept his guard up just the same.

Having never actually seen Kid Flash out of uniform, Crock scoured the bar carefully, surprised that there was only one red head seated in an Irish bar. He eyed the Wally up towards the front of one of the many large screens the bar owned, enough screens to show every single Sunday game. In Wally's section there were only a handful of Steelers fans in it, not a particularly popular team in Boston. He had never seen the speedster in civies before, but years as a trained assassin; he could easily picture the features of the young man without the mask.

How easy it would be to put a bullet in this kids head, just two quick shots and maybe see if the speedster had actually called his burglary attempt in or if he was bluffing. As he got closer Crock saw the pitcher of beer with an extra glass and enough appetizers to make someone sick from overeating.

He sat down without saying a word, hands tickling the triggers of his pistols when Wally reached forward and poured a beer and slid it back to the mercenary never looking back at him.

"Kickoff is in twenty minutes," he stated passing a plate back to Sportsmaster. "Help yourself."

Crock took a large swallow of the brew, impressed with Wally's beer of choice and wiped his mouth.

"You got big old brass ones kid, I'll give you that. So you and my daughter huh? What is it about my girls that draws them to redheads?"

"Good taste," Wally quipped.

"Stupidity," Crock retorted.

"Tomato-tomoto," Wally replied and took another swig

"So is there a bun in the oven? Do I need to take you behind this bar and beat the shit out of you for knocking up my little girl?"

"Naahhh," Wally replied. "Maybe someday on the baby, but I'll pass on the ass kicking."

"So are you trying to ask permission kid, get daddy's blessing and all that shit?"

"Nope. Call me old fashioned but I thought you should hear it from me. Jade and Ro... Arrow did it all covert style; I wanted to do it different."

"Does she know you here?"

"He'll no!" Wally stated anxiously. "Are you crazy? She'd kill us both."

"I've already talked to her mom. She gave me the all clear, she loves me by the way, but I wanted you to hear it from me first. I doubt you'll be getting an invite anyway, don't think you'd be a huge fan of the wedding guests."

"I'd guess not," chuckling once again. He almost liked this kid, to bad one day he would probably kill him.

"Look Larry. Here's the bottom line. You're going to do what you're going to do. This is not some grand bullshit gesture where I'm trying to bring you back from the dark side. I honestly don't' care what you do. If you're wondering if I think one day you might not kill me because I'm your son in law and maybe that I hope you'll show me some mercy…don't. I'm still going to kick your ass and I expect you to do the same."

"Don't get your panties in a wad kid, if you want to get hitched it's your funeral. I've got to warn you, the women in my family are some mean bitches when they want to be," Crock said slamming the remainder of his beer.

"Yep," Wally agreed, finishing his beer and involuntarily rubbing his arm on the spot Artemis constantly sought out.

"You love her?"

"Yep."

"You respect her?"

"Do you?"

"Touché, but this isn't about me dumbass. Anyway she's probably going to dump you, or kill you, maybe both."

Wally grinned. "You might be right, but I'm willing to take my chances. She's worth it"

"Yeah…she is. She's a real spitfire that one. Just like her mom."

The comment immediately caused Wally's eyes to open wide, surprised to hear that term escape the assassins mouth.

Wally poured them both another beer and they sat silently as the game started.

"How old are you kid?"

"Twenty-Two. Why?"

"You not even old enough to remember the old Steelers team. You either just jumped on the band wagon or made this shit up to sucker me in here."

"Larry, I suffered through some really shitty Steelers teams over the years. Brister, Miller, O'Donnell Stewart, Maddox. I've watched them put some real stinkers out there behind center, but I was a big Cowher fan and I like Tomlin even more, so don't call me some newbie. I've paid my dues."

"Speaking of which, even though you probably don't care, Artemis means more to me than anything in this world. I would do anything, and I mean literally anything to keep her safe and make her happy. I know a long time ago you must have felt the same way about the former Mrs. Crock."

"Current," Sportsmaster interrupted.

"Semantics. Bottom line. I'll take good care of her. That's a promise. Even if it means kicking your old ass repeatedly to keep her safe. Now do you want to talk me to death or watch the game?"

Very few people in the world would have the gall to talk to him like that, unless they had some kind of death wish. One blond archer immediately came to mind, so he was not at all surprised her boyfriend would be just as fiery. He had to be in order to play on the same level as Sportsmaster's daughter.

"On 2nd and 1 Mendenhall gets dropped for a 10 yard loss," the announcers stated to the groans of the Steelers fans present. The bartenders smiled at the visitor's pain. They hated the Steelers not to mention Steelers fans.

"God that kid sucks, Give me Bettis any day over this rookie. Damn I miss that guy."

"Be patient Larry. He's no rookie. Give the new guy a chance, he might surprise you.

Almost by divine intervention on 3rd down, Rashard Mendenhall broke a 60 year touchdown run and the bar exploded in cheers.

Wally raised his fist in the air and looked over at Lawrence Crock and clinked his mug with his in celebration.

"See sometime the new guy can surprise you."

"Yeah kid, I guess he can. Now shut up and pour me another beer."


End file.
